


directionless and driftin'

by justdoityoufucker



Series: time, love [3]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Aftermath, Alternate Universe - Demons, Alternate Universe - Magic, Chronic Illness, Established Relationship, Fuck the Hokage, M/M, Moving In Together, Strength in Love, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Weird Fiction Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-21
Updated: 2018-12-21
Packaged: 2019-09-21 18:25:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17048303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justdoityoufucker/pseuds/justdoityoufucker
Summary: The bed is wide and comfortable, and Iruka doesn’t want to leave it for the world. Not when he’s slept the best he has in what feels like years and there isn’t anything to do, no work, no responsibilities.Kakashi’s still holding onto him.





	directionless and driftin'

The bed is wide and comfortable, and Iruka doesn’t want to leave it for the world. Not when he’s slept the best he has in what feels like years and there isn’t anything to do, no work, no responsibilities. Kakashi is still holding onto him. He hasn’t let go since the living room, since the electricity sparking and the nosebleed.

Since they kissed.

He exhales, the breath quivering out of him alongside the overwhelming emotions. Finally.  _ Finally _ . He’s smiling so much it hurts but it’s  _ bliss _ . He knows it’s the same for Kakashi, that they can finally talk and be together.

The man in question makes a soft noise in his throat, nuzzles against Iruka’s chest. He’s still asleep, understandably exhausted after blasting the mask off his face, using all of that magic. Nowhere near a dangerous amount, but a tiring amount. Iruka will not say he is disappointed, because he is not. The opportunity to drink in Kakashi’s face, the delicate lines of his cheekbones, the feathery white of his eyelashes. Pretty.

_ You’re staring at me _ , Kakashi’s fingers press against the small of his back, where his shirt is riding up. There’s heat wherever their skin touches, pleasant and tingly. Iruka presses his own fingers to the back of Kakashi’s neck, and now that there’s no mask interfering with his own ability to, he replies mind-to-mind right back,  _ you’re pretty _ .

The pale skin of his face flushes, and his eyes squeeze shut even though they weren’t open in the first place. Pink cheeks, pink ears.  _ Pretty _ , Iruka says again, and finally Kakashi’s eyes crack open, stutter up to Iruka’s face. There’s something so earnest, there.

“Breakfast?” he asks.

Kakashi nods, allows himself to be tugged out of bed. An unmovable smile tugging at his lips, his hand still at Iruka’s waist.

-

They separate as Iruka makes breakfast, but barely. Like twin stars, a binary system, never getting too far away. Breakfast is eaten on the couch, their knees and thighs touching, shoulders bumping. Silence, comfortable, hangs around them, feelings bumping across their skin every time their shoulders touch. A resonance of it, echoes vibrating through and around them.

It doesn’t last.

A crack raps against the window. They look up in tandem, and are faced with one of the Hokage’s birds. A big thing, perhaps a particularly large kite or an eagle, its glassy eyes and too-still feathers the only real signs that it isn’t actually alive, but stuffed.

But despite the eyes, it seems to be staring at the cracked mask on the coffee table, and Kakashi sighs. His arm tightens around Iruka’s waist. “I need to go,” he says, and his voice cracks on the last word, just a little. “I hope I’ll be back.” 

Iruka’s hand tightens in his, and doesn’t let go. The Hokage has already taken so much from him, so much from them all, and even the threat of losing Kakashi is too much. “No. I’m going with you,” Iruka says, half-glaring at the bird, still not releasing Kakashi’s hand, “I’ve been on his bad side for years anyway. I don’t want him to take away the person I care about the most.” He turns, and Kakashi’s face is darkening. Kakashi leans forward, buries his face against Iruka’s neck and wheezes for a full minute. Collects himself, Iruka patting his back.

“Thank you,” Kakashi finally says, and Iruka carefully picks up the wolf mask, hands it to him. There’s no further preparation; they pull their shoes on, Iruka locks the door, and they walk at an easy pace down the streets to the Tower. Hand in hand, heedless of the others in the streets.

Squeezing their fingers together, Iruka releases Kakashi’s hand, and they enter the Tower.

-

The first noise the Hokage makes is a groan, as they step in, Kakashi first, and then Iruka. Of course he groans; that earns a pointed glare from Iruka.

Iruka stays back a respectful distance, but Kakashi steps forward, sets the cracked mask on the desk. Turns it so the empty eyes face the Hokage. “I’m retiring,” he says, a little gracelessly, steps back to where Iruka is.

“Duly noted, Hatake-san,” the Hokage says, his eyes flicking up from the mask, around the room. Trying to avoid Iruka’s gaze but failing. Iruka steps forward, intertwines his and Kakashi’s fingers, squeezes once, and looks at the Hokage as if it’s a challenge. Despairing, maybe, the Hokage adds, “I will inquire as to placement for you outside of the Anbu. Where might I contact you if anything is found?”

It’s Kakashi’s turn to squeeze Iruka’s hand. “Iruka’s apartment; I’m sure you know where that is.” A pause. A visible bead of sweat rolls down the Hokage’s forehead. And Kakashi turns, bends and scoops Iruka up like he weighs nothing, like he’s bone china. Tucks Iruka’s head under his chin. Carries him out, down the stairs, out of the building and doesn’t let him down until they’re back inside Iruka’s apartment, both jittery with adrenaline and mirth.

Kakashi falls onto the couch, pulls Iruka down on top of him. Iruka can’t help giggling as he presses his face to Kakashi’s, laughter born both of actual mirth and something like adrenaline-worry-terror. And Kakashi can’t help but laugh, too, worrying his forehead against Iruka’s. Pulls him close, doesn’t let go.

“Did you mean it?” Iruka eventually asks, laughter dying down to hiccups, then to nothing. His hands are cupping Kakashi’s face, fingers pressed delicately there, “That you’ll be here?”

“Of course,” Kakashi says, like it’s the most logical thing, the most natural progression. And it is, Iruka considers, as Kakashi leans forward and presses a kiss to the corner Iruka’s mouth, doesn’t pull away, “I’ll just need to get a change of clothes.”

Oh, Iruka thinks, a smile spreading across his face as he leans forward to press a kiss to Kakashi’s lips. “Well, I think we have time to go get that.”

And they do.

-

Kakashi’s apartment is sparse, which is a little sad to Iruka. But it means that it’s easy to pull everything into a container with his magic, send a blast of air out to dust everything and be done. Kakashi has a sweet, sort of awestruck look on his face as Iruka hands him the piece of paper with all his possessions in it.

For such an important move, such an important part of a relationship, it doesn’t feel particularly life-changing. Kakashi makes room in Iruka’s closet and dresser, places his meager clothes and other possessions away. Sets his potted plants on the bookshelf where they’ll catch the morning sun and give some life to the room.

Iruka’s in the kitchen, most of the way through making gyudon. The meat is cooking with the onions and it smells heavenly; he’s focused but not enough to miss Kakashi walking in. There’s so much he’s thankful to Kakashi for, so much that he knows Kakashi is thankful for in return. They’re together now, despite everything, and he can’t help but smile when Kakashi wraps an arm around his waist like he’s done so many times.

They’re quiet for a few moments as the meat slowly browns, and Kakashi says, “I love you.”

Iruka turns, letting the chopsticks rest on the counter. Smiles, “I love you, too.”

Kakashi smiles in return, adds, “The Hokage can’t change that. Can’t do anything about that. I’ll always stay with you.”

“Always,” Iruka echoes, stepping closer, letting himself be pulled in so their chests press together. And the gyudon and the stove and any thought of food is forgotten as they fall into each other, at the beginning of their forever.

**Author's Note:**

> as always, [my twitter](https://twitter.com/lutzaussi/)


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